Naga society speaks often about unity, brotherhood, reconciliation, and common aspirations but rules and laws are reduced to mere suggestions without any consequences.
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Without accountability, unity is just a slogan and peace is just a pause. The critical question is not who breaks the law, agreements, commitments or contracts. It is: what happens after they are broken? If the answer is “nothing,” then we do not have a system of governance. We only have noise.
Our Naga society speaks often about unity, brotherhood, reconciliation, and common aspirations. These words are repeated in speeches, written in appeals, and preached from platforms that carry moral authority. Yet despite all our declarations, the truth remains uncomfortable: rules and laws are reduced to mere suggestions because they rarely face any consequences.
The Language of Unity, the Absence of Consequence
Even as children, we grew up with a basic understanding of accountability. If we disobeyed our parents, disrespected elders, or went against our teachers’ instructions, there were consequences. Sometimes it was scolding, sometimes punishment, sometimes shame, but the lesson was clear: actions have outcomes. That discipline did not destroy our upbringing but it kept us from repeating wrongs and taught us that respect is not only spoken, it is enforced through responsibility.
Over the years, several agreements have been signed and many commitments have been made in the name of Naga peace and reconciliation. Several significant Initiatives have been undertaken by churches, civil society bodies, and respected platforms like the Forum for Naga Reconciliation (FNR). Yet time and again, these efforts have collapsed, leaving behind public frustration and growing cynicism.
It would be accurate to say these initiatives failed because one or more parties did not uphold their promises. But that explanation is incomplete. The deeper reason is this: we, as a people and as a collective system, failed to build accountability into our commitments.
Why Agreements Collapse: The Missing Mechanism
In any society, agreements are not sustained by emotions or speeches. They are sustained by mechanisms. A commitment survives when there are clear terms, transparent monitoring, and consequences for violations. When these are absent, agreements become ceremonial documents; impressive on paper but powerless in reality.
When I say “agreements,” I do not mean only political agreements between Naga groups. I mean every contract signed, every oath taken, and every assurance given by governments, organisations, leaders, and even ordinary individuals.
This is why Naga society remains trapped in a cycle. The pattern repeats itself with numbing predictability: reconciliation calls are sounded, meetings held, resolutions passed, contracts signed, assurances made. Then violations resume quietly as if nothing was agreed upon.
Those who point them out are told to remain silent "for the sake of unity and peace." Or silenced through threats. The agreements and assurances die not because the people lacked sincerity, but because the system lacked consequences.
Accountability as Protection, Not Division
In our Naga society, accountability is often misunderstood as hostility. Some fear that holding individuals or groups accountable will "create division." But the opposite is true. Accountability is what protects unity. Responsibility is what enforces agreements, law and order and the dignity of commitments. Every society will collapse without accountability.
A society without clear accountability doesn't achieve peace, it achieves selectivity. It becomes a place where the strong and selfish violate rules without consequences, while the weak must remain disciplined. Honest people feel punished for staying honest while wrongdoing becomes profitable.
No society or movement can progress under such conditions.
From Grassroots to Governance
The same principle applies beyond political agreements. Corruption in government, misuse of power in the bureaucracy, and wrong practices within civil and social organisations all survive for one reason: the absence of accountability at the grassroots.
A society cannot demand integrity from the top while tolerating dishonesty at the bottom. Accountability must be practiced starting from our everyday systems, public offices, departments, village bodies, student unions, church committees, NGOs, and community organisations and then rise upward until it becomes the standard at the highest level.
If we want real reform, the younger generation of our Naga society must insist on accountability everywhere, not occasionally, not selectively, and not only when it suits our interests.
Addressing Legitimate Concerns
Some will argue that public accountability risks escalating conflicts or undermining delicate negotiations. This concern deserves respect. Naga society has experienced enough violence and division to make anyone cautious about actions that might reignite tensions. But consider the alternative: agreements that lack credibility, commitments that carry no weight, and a perpetual cycle of hope and disappointment. The discomfort of accountability is temporary. The cost of its absence is permanent dysfunction. True peace is not built on silence about violations but it is built on systems that prevent them.
Three Principles for Practical Change
Moving from diagnosis to prescription requires specific commitments. If we are serious about peace, then accountability must become a central pillar of our collective life. This means moving beyond emotional appeals and adopting practical principles.
First, commitments must be measurable. If an agreement/commitment is made, the terms must be clear enough that any ordinary citizen can understand what is being promised and what counts as violation.
Second, violations must be documented and publicly acknowledged by the relevant parties, authorities and the society at large. Silence does not preserve unity; it protects wrongdoing. A society that cannot name violations cannot correct them.
Third, there must be consequences. Accountability does not require violence or revenge. It requires disciplined civic response, public condemnation, withdrawal of legitimacy, institutional pressure, and refusal to normalize those who repeatedly break collective commitments. And this is the collective responsibility of our society, its organisations and intellectuals.
This is not about targeting any one individual or group. It is about establishing a principle: no one is above the commitments made in the name of the people.
Building a Culture of Consequence
If we want a future where unity, peace and progress is not just spoken but lived, we must build accountability into our culture, our politics, and our institutions.
Thomas Hobbes famously said, “Covenants, without the sword, are but words.” Take away consequences, and chaos will prevail. In our context, the sword must be a lawful and civic consequence.
Naga society deserves more than repeated declarations or moral public speeches. It deserves a system where commitments mean something and where breaking them has consequences.
The generation that builds accountability into Naga institutions rather than merely calling for it will be the generation that finally transforms declarations into reality. The question is whether we have the courage to begin.
Aga Rengma
Writer & Youth Activist
Interim Convenor
Western Naga Youth Front